Harry Potter and the Anfractuous Affair
by NikkiPark99
Summary: Harry Potter goes through another tragedy twenty years after the Second Wizarding War, but he isn't alone. Not only will this tragedy leave another scar for Harry to own, but it will change his views on everything; including his ex-enemy. Auror Potter must take part on the cause of the devastation for it includes strange dark magic... but somebody starts to occupy his mind (Drarry)
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

***Before you start, I need to clarify some things. Pretend Draco and Harry don't look super old like they did in the last movie. Especially Malfoy. *shivers* Second, I mixed some events from the books and some from the movies. Third, a lot of this includes a mix of J.K. Rowling's ideas and my ideas for what happens after the epilogue. I am putting all these ideas into Drarry awesomeness, so be prepared for a long story, not a one-shot. Enjoy, you Potterheads!***

**WARNING: THIS FANFICTION MAY CAUSE THE FOLLOWING: Heart attacks, excessive fangirl/fanboy squealing, high blood pressure, crying, obsession, increased shipping of Drarry, intense butterfly fights in your stomach, hyperventilation, aching cheekbones from immoderate smiling, scalp abuse from ripping out hair, more squealing, the sudden urge to jump around, lack of sleep, nerve tingles, muscle spasms, and more related physical/mental health issues. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

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**Chapter One: Prologue**

**~Nineteen Years Later~**

Today was the day, the day the youngest Malfoy would jump onto the Hogwarts Express and chug his way down to Hogwarts; the best place his father has ever been to. Scorpius looked up to his father his entire life and now, starting today, it's his turn. He must show his father that he is the best son he'll ever have. His mother, Astoria, runs as fast as she can with her little eleven-year-old through platform nine and three quarters; both tightly gripping onto his accelerating cart.

Thirty-seven year-old Draco Lucius Malfoy follows his wife and son with a private grin smothered above his pale and pointed chin. This place brings back great memories, and now his son will make his own great memories in a fantastic wizarding school at such a safer time than he was in. No dark lord, death eaters are decreasing in rate, and with Headmistress McGonagall in charge of Hogwarts, Draco couldn't be putting him anywhere safer.

The Malfoys find a spot through the crowded gathering of families surrounding their magical children before they board on the train. Diverse conversations fill up the area, for the train should be leaving in six minutes. Six more minutes left until Draco won't be able to see his precious son until the holidays! This will be the first time Scorpius will be separated from his parents; and for a very long time too. However, he feels his son is ready for this big step. Like what his father did for him, he prepared his offspring to the best of his ability; educating him on the wizarding world and its ways, having Quidditch practices in the yard, and how carrying the Malfoy name and wealth, what's left of it anyways, is important yet not enforced. Draco knows his son deserves better than what he received, and by raising his son in a more positive environment, he knows his son will do well and not make the same immense mistakes like he made at Hogwarts. Wealth, blood status, and high family authority isn't everything and should not be treated as so. It took Draco years to learn that, so raising his Scorpius with that knowledge will prevent any struggles in the future, making his life easier. Scorpius will have better characteristics compared to his father back at that age.

It does not matter to Draco on what house Scorpius will be sorted into. Scorpius is indeed loyal to his parents, most definitely has a good head on his shoulders, a pinch of a daring and outgoing personality but above all, Scorpius has the Slytherin ambition and he would do anything to slither his way to his goal. Cunning but kind at heart. He will find friends easily at Hogwarts though his confident cool guy ego could be a difficulty with the girls, or instead an immediate success. Draco really wishes the other kids know not of the Malfoy name like it was years back, or else Scorpius would be starting off as a rejected outcast.

The exultant blonde does not hesitate to his mother's open arms as the alarming train whistle avenges everyone's ears. It's only polite. Draco and Astoria taught him all his manners. Four more minutes left. "-get good grades, make friends with responsible people, be respectful to others no matter what, learn many things, owl me weekly-"

"I get it mum," Scorpius's pale face flushed, trying to hide his embarrassment. "You must've told me hundreds of times the way here."

"I know, I know," replied a hushed voice and her warm fingers caress his cheeks. "I'll just... I will miss you darling. My little boy all grown up for Hogwarts!" Astoria's husband observes the two hug once again for a longer period of time. He appreciates the way Astoria mothers but in daily life, his one and only son takes up most of his attention. Yet, just for this moment, Draco's attention glides away into the crowds of people. This is indeed Draco's first time being here for so many years. Maybe he could spot anyone he knows before he leaves. Gregory Goyle wouldn't be here, for he doesn't have a child. Last time Malfoy heard, Goyle decided to "live life to the fullest" after the war ended, whatever that meant. Being in an official relationship dedicated to one person probably wasn't included in those plans. But Draco could be wrong.

Blaise Zabini is nowhere to be seen, but rumor has it he found his partner rather quickly after leaving Hogwarts and stepped into the big world of parenthood at a young age. His child would've graduated by now, so unless he has another child, he wouldn't be here. As for Pansy, well he can't seem to find her either. Maybe she already left. Maybe she was with Blaise. It didn't matter, Draco has not talked to his (what seemed to be) close friends in years. Perhaps it was the fact Draco ignored everything related to his worse years, or maybe this arranged marriage of his...

Draco has his eyes locked on a grown woman, but not because she was very attractive. Her face just looked strangely familiar. Where is she from? How would Draco know her? Was it a picture he came across in the Daily Prophet, or a face popping up at the Ministry where he works? Could she be a student during his days? She must've been very young then, for she looks in her late twenties now; early thirties at the most. But no, this was a face he saw often. She was in his classes, the Ministry, and the Daily Prophet. He couldn't believe his eyes, Granger?! Just yards away Draco watches her embrace a redhead girl in her chest. Redhead... well that could only mean-

Speaking of no surprise, Weasley is standing right by her side while holding a younger boy close to him. Draco's eyebrow rises; that Weasel could use a few anti-aging spells. Then again, he never really found the ginger that appealing anyway. Well, at least these were people he knew, now known as Ronald and Hermione Weasley. Well, good for them. Draco shrugs it off.

Wait, if the Weasleys are here, then so should... _him. _It's not like he doesn't see that man anyway, for he too works in the Ministry. Just different departments. Draco just doesn't see him often, nor does he want to. It's bad enough that Harry James Potter is the reason he's alive. It's slightly humiliating and even worse that he never thanked him after the war. Once Crabbe's face flashes in his mind, Draco avoids the thoughts.

Oh but no, thoughts of Harry Potter wouldn't leave; particularly now. A short man with rounded glasses and combed (yet still messy) hair walks with his wife. He knows that woman is Ginevra Potter, the retired professional Quidditch player. Being a very famous Quidditch player like her, only a bum wouldn't recognize her. Even the muggles like her athletic talents. But now, Draco sees her name credited in Quidditch news of the Daily Prophet. Three kids walk with her, and it's no doubt they are Harry's.

Three kids already, has the time flown by! There are two dark-haired boys who seem to be going at each other, centered more towards the shorter boy. Whatever that older brother is saying it really seems to be bothering him. Then there's that little girl who doesn't stray from her mother's reach. Merlin, did she really resemble her mother.

Harry's green eyes gleam flamboyantly far enough for Draco to see. This made Draco smile warmly, for Potter looked so happy. For some reason, that made him happy too. Draco didn't even realize how long he was gawking at this man, but to him it all seemed like Potter was walking in slow motion. He tried for years to avoid Harry as much as possible but when he's at a safe distance, it doesn't hurt to look, right? It is Harry's fault after all; he's the one that lures Draco into never keeping his eyes off him. He's just out there in the open, so Draco has every right to look. He's not the only one staring at him, but Draco is only one of the few that can care less about that scar on his forehead.

Then it hit him. How utterly unexpected. Those striking green eyes seemed to pierce right through his chest once they left the Weasleys and onto him. Draco refrained from breaking the eye contact, though he knew that he should stop. He can't, yet he doesn't know why. Why now? Before there seemed to be no problem avoiding him but now Draco can't stop. Not until Harry does. What makes now so different? Seeing him with a family? He never looked at a being this long before, not even his wife.

The boy who lived, doesn't stop looking for a while either. In fact he gives him a satisfied grin; a grin that quickly symbolizes maturity, forgiveness and exhilaration. A gleeful nod was all Malfoy replied with. Just two fathers passing by. Before Draco looked away from his stomach performing a backflip, Harry broke eyesight by turning around; finding his youngest son further back tying his shoe. It took a few tugs to realize Draco's own son was attempting to talk to him. Finally, Draco put all his attention back on Scorpius. "Did you even hear me, father?"

"Err," Malfoy started, itching at the back of his neck. "Maybe. Repeat it please."

"I said I think I'm ready."

Before Draco said another word, Scorpius pugnaciously ties his arms around his father. Draco was never used to be given affection like this before, but when it came to his son he would always bear through it and hug back. After all, there were many times Draco wanted to do that with his father. Draco was tense like his father yet wanted to be very different. He wanted to be what his father was not. A tense relationship was not wanted from either one of them. "I know you will do great," he whispered, feeling his son's slicked hair. The whistle screamed loudly again and Scorpius backed away. "Now, do everything your mother has told you and I'll be writing to you often. I can't wait to see what house you end up in. I can see you fitting into each one. I know you will make me proud, so be yourself. Make some new friends while you're at it. Now get, the train is leaving."

After the last few hugs, Scorpius jogs his way onboard the train, following a dark-haired kid. Draco looks over at the clock, it is exactly eleven o'clock, and his brain commands his eyes to have one more long glimpse at that Potter guy again. He noticed Harry was looking into one specific window of the train with Ginny, Hermione and Ron. Could they be feeling the same way as him? Just look at them, all grown up like he is, together as they were back at school, and still the same heroes. These people (well, minus the Ginevra girl) were always included in his life. He would always find a way to bug that trio, and tried his hardest to get them caught in their trouble to make them miserable. Boy was he the biggest boasting snob of the years. Nevertheless, that was the past. Right now, all these adults have matured, for they have seen it all. And the kids boarding the train are progenies of those survivors. It's a new generation and era of pure peace.

The Malfoys watch as the Hogwarts Express hauls in children, ready for their first or another magical year. Mrs. Malfoy performs concealed but gratified sobs at a distance from her husband. Little did Draco know, this would be the last year before this current life would change once again, for when there is rebirth, there must be an end.


	2. Chapter 2: A Dangerous Game

**Chapter Two: A Dangerous Sport**

**~August 20****th****, 2018~**

**Munich, Germany**

_**. **Abarca (S, Fe, #7) passes quaffle to Valdez (S, M, #20), Valdez scores, Spain scores_

_**. **Spain still in the lead, now 430-290_

_**. **Crowd goes wild_

And no lie, she was right. The ginger leans on the edge of her seat as spirited shrieks vibrate the wooden stadium. This game has been going on for hours but everyone is far from exhausted. This is the World Cup between Spain and Germany but could still be anyone's game. Flashes of red and yellow jerseys speed faster than those with black and red jerseys. After over a decade of professional Quidditch competing, Ginny has a special keen eye for the game-play. No need for those silly omnioculars.

The quill furiously carves ink onto Ginny's notepad named "Daily Prophet," recording as many observations she can make. As always, she sits in a special reserved spot in the top box that are for Quidditch correspondents only. She already recorded interviews of the captains of each team before the game started. All that foreign language studies paid off for interviewing the Spanish team. She was really lucky Germany's captain spoke rough English for her.

A flag of each country dance feverishly in the cool wind as the air smells like odd mixes of pumpkin juice, warming apple cider, firewhiskey and musty salt. Gray clouds separate the fully lit stadium and the stars and moon above. That doesn't matter, what matters is the game, and the eyes of crazed sport fans of each team feed on the ongoing action above them. A beater would constantly hit a bludger to fight the other team (three people are already are sitting out from injuries), chasers throw quaffles back and forth as if it was a hot potato, keepers lash out with full effort to prevent the tetrahedron ball from entering their hoops, and seekers tread carefully while their eyes become more strained by every minute.

Ginny's family left almost an hour ago, for Lily drifted to fast sleep and her brothers were fighting to stay awake. Her daughter never seemed too interested in Quidditch but her boys were the complete opposite. James, being the popular beater he is, was excited to watch another World Cup but even he grew tired of watching after five hours. Albus, who is hoping to make it anywhere on the Hogwarts Gryffindor team this upcoming year spent most of the time studying how the players played rather than enjoying the game. Even though he is Gryffindor material, he can be quite worrisome. As for her husband, Harry took them home and stayed.

To the average eye, it's hard to keep up with the witches and wizards zooming on their Lightning Dash 100's. Those brooms almost made Ginny laugh, for when she retired her and some other worthy champions each received a Lightning Dash 5000. It was rumored (yet not proven) that the Lightning Dash 5000 really do go as fast as light itself. Many people can't get those brooms for various reasons: it was worth over ten-thousand galleons, riding on it required immense strength against the air resistance, and many did not have the stomachs or hearts for the ride. To Ginny, these Lightning Dash 100's were child's play.

Savages with red and yellow paint splattered on their raging faces pound their fists against the bleachers on one side of the stadium. On the other side stand red and black ruffians rooting for all the luck they can get. These blood-thirsty fans show no mercy for their enemy team as they spit out insults and intense animal grunting. The ginger smirks to herself, for she remembers taking in all that negativity. Good times. She makes one last glance at the fans wearing enlarged hats and scarfs that both share the same colors before looking back at the players. All these wild reactions fuel up Ginny's fires within her. Her entire life has never been boring or uneventful, so she has learned to live and love it. Growing up with the Weasleys and being the youngest sister out of all her older brothers, Ginny grew more than just a backbone.

When she looks back at the main scene, she notices the chants of the Germany supporters seem to be working. Her quill jumps back into action.

_Chaser Gluck (G, M, #10) has scored ten points_

_Score still Spain winning, 430-300_

The speakers echoed her sentences as both audiences rage with either despair or vigor. Ginny's heart races like those accompanying her.

A hearty man yells behind Ginny. "Well would you look at that!"

A strong feeling in her gut tells her that the game will be close to finishing. Scratch that plan for getting a quick coffee; this could be it! Then, as if it was in slow motion, a seeker extends her arm out in the field, dodging every bludger and even the other seeker. Incantation replaces the Germany cheering. It's in German but Ginny can make a rough translation.

_Baasch, Bassch, she never lets the snitch go!_

_..._

_She fights,_

_She..._

_She aims,_

_She never misses a catch!_

_..._

_Baasch, Baasch, our fighting warrior!_

The singing would repeat over and over, gradually getting louder. Ginny watches the famous seeker's long brown hair that is kept up in a shiny sleek ponytail shake violently to the wind gushing at it. She would know this feeling, and she could almost hear the wind cuffing her own ears. That sound of rushing wind would always cause her neck hairs to sick up back when she played.

_Seeker Baasch (G, Fe, #2) reaches in for the snitch..._

_BAASCH, BAASCH,_

Next, Mrs. Potter finds herself standing and leaning eagerly over the railing. Neither team was in her heart's desire to win, but it her thoughts are starting to favor for Germany. Not because of the countries or that Germany is an inch close to winning, but because the team's captain was really nice to her. Everyone was standing on the edge; so close to either jumping off the cliff or parading in the other direction. Baasch leans over her broom with one thrust, and the crowd goes mad.

_**BAASCH, BAASCH, SHE NEVER LETS THE SNITCH GO!**_

Ginny hollers with the thousands of people below her as Spain's team rush to their seeker. The victorious woman holds out the fluttering golden snitch; its wings flailing in between her fingers. Her pearly white and perfectly straight teeth reflect the lights centered on her. Waves of clapping, screaming, crying, rooting, chanting, singing, siren blasting, whistling and faint groans attack Ginny's eardrums as she finishes the rest on her notepad. _GERMANY WINS!_

_Baasch catches the snitch at 01:06 a.m._

_Germany wins at their own stadium, Germany wins 428__th__ Quidditch World Cup, score 450-430_

_Game started: August 19__th__ at 07:30 p.m. Ended: August 20__th__ at 01:06 a.m._

_Congratulations to Germany! Well played by both teams!_

Her notebook closes and Ginny grabs it with joy. People are already starting to head to their tents nearby, others apparate, and the rest make way to their port keys. As for Ginny, she prefers a different mode of transportation. Watching good Quidditch games like this makes her famished with riding a broom herself. She starts on the flights of stairs with the other worn out sport fans. Her mind is racing with her satisfied heart.

If it's 01:12 a.m. in this city of Germany, then London should be only an hour behind. No doubt her children would be sleeping right now. September is just around the corner, so the kids will be going back to Hogwarts very soon. James Sirius Potter would be starting his sixth year, Albus Severus Potter would be starting his second year, and it would be Lily Luna Potter's last year before she starts Hogwarts with her older brothers. The years seem to fly by with her kids. They should slow down that growing!

Ginny now walks away from the stadium as she pulls out her wand. "Accio Lightning Dash 5000!"

She continues to walk away from the old stadium with a fat grin below her stubby nose. Her broom is all the way in her vacation house's garage, so she'll have to wait. Not too long, for it is the fastest broom made yet. Her eyes scavenge around her; giggles leave her mouth as she watches a wasted yet happy couple stumble out, two little girls sleeping on each of their father's arms, and what makes her smile the biggest was seeing two women who happen to be madly in love with each other plant a vigorous kiss on their lover's lips; the darker-haired taller woman scooping her short strawberry-ginger wife. This made her think of herself with Harry. Ginny wonders if Harry stayed up this late like he normally does for her. Especially now, when just last week he discovered that the Marauder's Map has vanished from his desk at home and has grown restless at trying to find it again. It would be something Fred and George would do to their parents, steal something like that. Aside from that, Ginevra is excited to go back home and tell Harry what happened; wait until morning to tell the kids that Germany has won. Maybe Germany's triumph will get Lily more into Quidditch. Before she gets home, she has to report to the Ministry and have her notes typed into the Daily Prophet. It's not like people already don't know about the ga-

Sudden uproars of screaming crescendo behind Ginny; almost causing her to jump out of her sneakers. For a second she thought she missed something that the sports fans were cheering over. But that can't be. Ginny was sure she saw the players leave the field before she left the stadium. That wasn't the only thing that threw her off, but also those screams... These screams weren't the normal screams she heard earlier. They didn't sound like it was filled with spirit but instead, with terror. These screams were like Harry's from his occasional nightmares years back. He doesn't have these nightmares anymore... but still.

Now Ginny can't leave. This is indeed news related to the game and she is at a safe distance for now, before the brave (yet sometimes unwise) Gryffindor part of her does something about it. Massive amounts of people rush out of the stadium exits; many of them hacking their lungs out and faces darkened. It smells like a campfire; Ginny always hated that smell. By squinting her eyes she can see flames of orange and yellow consuming the wooden stadium. Heavy black smoke rises to the thick barrier of clouds. The flames flourish and become more noticeable. Aguamenti can't even solve this problem. Ginny has never seen conflagrations as thick as this before.

"A fire?!" Ginny gasps, and her notebook levitates back to her height and the quill automatically writes:

_A swarming fire engulfs the stadium just minutes later_

_Many witches and wizards rush from the old wooden stadium that happens to be made out of wood_

_Cause of fire is unknown_

_People jump off the stadium-_

Wait, what?! Oh but it's woefully factual. It seems a little bit absurd that people are choosing to jump off the burning stadium. Wouldn't they rather escape the fire instead of plummeting to immediate death? Everyone was leaving when she was, so there can't be that much people still in there. She needs to get help for these people. Should she go inside for those survivors, or would that be a senseless action considering she has too much to lose if she puts her life in jeopardy like that? Her broom should be here any second, then it wouldn't be so dangerous to safe these people. Another two people shake hands with death as they fall from the very top. More?!

Now, the flames aren't the only object providing light, but now flashes of red, white, purple and green light join the fire. Squealing horror leaves many mouths before these flashes were used on them. Ginny saw the rare green flashes forcing people to the ground. She only knew one spell that gave green sparks, and seeing people getting hit with that unforgivable curse made her feet freeze to the ground. Her throat would close as her heart pumped twice as fast. All of her blood drains from her face. These murderers, torturers and rebels seem to spread more with the innocent running people.

This wasn't _just _a fire...

She witnesses another two men shoot a red bolt at another guy, making the other man's back bleed through his sweater. Next, the same two guys meet gaze with Ginny's widened eyes. Once they grin malevolently at her, Ginny walks back; pointing her wand at them. They showed no fear as they strutted closer to her. The woman found herself shaking dramatically on the inside as she tried to keep her face as serious as possible. Then Ginny's ears detected a small object piercing the ear behind her. It's her broom, finally.

The thought of apparating didn't cross her mind however it would've been helpful. Especially now, as she watches the amount of these terrible people increase in size. Right now, these men were occupying her thoughts. _Just fight them and leave. Get help. Stop these two before they kill me and more innocent people._

What if they shot the killing curse at her? She saw them do it to another person without sympathy. The curse is unblockable, so she can't take any chances. Just as the broom arrived beside her hips, the one man with shoulder-length greasy brown hair casts, "REDUCTO!" Ginny looked over; her broom was ripped open and shattered into splinters. Without her looking, the other man lashed his last spell onto her; a shade of white that made her knees buckle, causing her to body to crumble down on the cold soil.

That didn't stop Ginny. While still on the ground she pointed her wand to the bald man.

"Stupef-"

"Expelliarmus!"

It was as if the men read her mind. There must be another way; there must be something she could do. What is left, physically fighting these two men who each happen to have a wand including hers? There must be a way; maybe the Aurors such as her very own husband and law enforcement will arrive to save her in time. She has never felt so helpless before in her life as these two men snigger closer to her; pointing their sharp wands at her. Then, something starts inside of her; something she felt once when she was battling with Bellatrix Lestrange. Many people would call this as an act of survival. Her mind has changed to one thing and one thing only. Do whatever it takes to survive, for she must for her kids, her family... the love of her life. Could he bear being an only father and losing another person close to him?

Survival.

These men were obviously not going to pity her, so now there's Plan B: Giving these damned blokes more than a piece of their medicine.

As the men hover over her, her left leg swings at full speed at the bald man's legs; tripping him and shooting up to punch him down. Her bleeding knuckles sting but the pain becomes rapidly replaced by pure adrenaline. The survival instincts first tell her to grab the man's two wands, and so she did. A flash of scarlet aims straight at Ginny, but she blocks it as an impulse. A great, life-saving impulse. Her wand is back in her right hand. Once the man on the floor struggles back up, she immediately stops him.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

Unable to block, the man on the ground is refrained from moving. The skinny guy she faces now points his wand at the ginger. This girl can seriously pack a fight. Instead of throwing a spell at her, his face leans closer; then backing away at least a couple feet. "¡Es la esposa de Harry, Harry Potter! Se llama Ginevra. ¡Es Señora Potter!"

Ginny understood everything he said, but his voice was slurred. He was wasted yet still knows exactly who she is, the wife of Harry Potter; the man who defeated the dark lord. She gave him a superior grin; perhaps he is changing his mind on who he messes with.

The man just stands there; his arm trembling. Did she use the petrifying spell on him too? It sure seemed like it. But Ginny didn't care, she wanted to finish them. Who knows what would've happened if she didn't trip the bulky bald wizard and taken back her wand!

Just as Ginny was about to perform another petrifying spell, the man lowered his wand. His tan body didn't seem so tan right now, and he wasn't even looking at her. Those dark brown eyes focused on someone behind her instead. "S-Señor..." he whispered without energy left.

Then it happened. Ginny didn't even have time to turn, for all the nerves throughout her body felt as if they were being ripped out of her. Scorching knives slice open her temporal and dig inside every part of her brain. Her heart accelerates and tries to pump blood into arteries that feel like it's too tight to pass through. Muscle fibers feel like the desert that became so dry it started on fire. Every single cell shrieks in peril agony with Ginny as her throat warms up from so much pressure. Her body is in a fetal position as her fists clench up. The two lungs feel so abused from her constant screaming; making it harder to take another deep inhale for another round. Her bones vibrated and wouldn't stop jabbing her spine at her brain. It might feel so good to die right now.

She can't... for her children, she can't die. Not here, not now.

Ginny tries to think other than the torture, but she can't. It's so intense; she doesn't think her heart can take it any faster than it is right now. The digested food in her intestines boil as her blood turns cold. She must fight through it; whatever she does she cannot beg them to kill her. It feels like she is dying, she just wants it to stop.

After what seconds seemed like hours, the man behind her stopped the Cruciatus Curse. The pressure seemed to cloud her eyes; that and the tears did help blind her. This sense of relief was the best she could possibly feel right now, but it's still not completely fulfilled as the men remained. She couldn't see the one who tortured her, but she did have a strong feeling that this man was behind this; all of this.

Next, the man behind her hissed sternly at the two guys beside her. His voice had a low tone full with fury and she did not understand a word he was saying. It sounded Russian almost, except the accent was off just slightly. She never bothered with Russian, yet now she regrets it. What was he saying? Is he going to kill her? Torture her again?

She's too weak to apparate now. Everything feels so worn out, like her muscles got tossed around in the washing machine for an hour straight and hung out to dry. The adrenaline rush was over for she can feel everything afterwards.

Hands shoot up over her body, pointing to each of the two men. The one looking just as weak as her just moments ago walked closer to her defenseless being, with the wicked expression drawn all over his face. The man whom she petrified seems to be acting as if nothing happened. Something in their eyes told her both danger and fraudulence. The one with shoulder-length hair started blowing formidable kicks that kept striking her rib cage. Some of those flexible bones actually snapped inside her, but Ginny couldn't scream. She used up all of her screams already.

The bald man bent over, enjoying the show as he gave her a few stinging slaps across her face. She knew what came next; his cigarette rotten saliva splatters at different parts of her face, like shotgun gunpowder. Thank goodness her mouth wasn't open, for she would've ejected her stomach out.

The skinny bloke pulls out the Daily Prophet notepad and looks through it. He muttered something insulting in the Russian language and kicks the poor ginger again, this time in the head. Next thing she noticed was that the stadium wasn't the only thing bursting in flames of negativity. A splitting headache is born within her head as she swears she can feel the back of her skull getting moist and drenching her hair.

Hands above her impale the air, and the men seem to have flown back a few yards. It was like they were the man's puppets. How could that happen?

Finally, she saw part of the evil sorcerer's figure, but it didn't last. A wand slowly meets it head with her chest. The man did not speak for the spell, and the last spell she ever faces again had a purple flourish. Something inside her didn't feel right after it. Nothing in her chest and abdominal was solid it seemed like. All her organs- all just mush.

The purple light absorbed in her body as she just noticed the three men weren't there anymore. It did not make things better, for Ginny felt weaker within every following second. The spell had to contain some kind of glass or acid, for she felt her own boiling blood pouring from all her organs internally. Her heart started to beat faster... and weaker... and faster...

Her head turns for her cheek to lie on the cold ground. Only screams of other individuals are heard now. Ginny's vision seems to recede to Harry's level without his glasses. The stadium that continues to burn makes creaking yelps numerous times before finally collapsing on itself. Why did this happen? What wrong thing caused this whole mess? Law enforcement is not even here yet. Slowly, the feeling in Ginny's toes and fingers are gone. While her torso still seems to be warm, the arms and legs get cold.

There is a scream very close to where Ginny's body is; a child's scream. Ginny makes all effort to slide her vacant head over to the spot. The woman can make out who the little kid with a yellow blob on his head was. She can barely see the face to recognize it as every pulse her heart gives her eyes an extra blurry covering. A tear sheds from her eyes as she is forced to listen to this child sobbing his lungs out. The boy seems to be doing all of this on top of another body. If only she could get up to help the child, but her arms and legs seem to be struggling to feed their nerves.

She hears shoes grinding frantically against the hard soil and her dying bloodshot eyes make out another man with the same hair scurrying up from behind the child. The familiar alarmed voice shouts the child's name. His father has come.

"D-Dad," the little boy weeps. "S-She's gone... She can't be... She just needs help..."

The father seemed to kneel there for a while, but then the moment ended with another person screaming in the background. "C'mon, we need to go. Now!"

"_NO DAD, NO! WE CAN'T LEAVE H-"_

But before the boy finished, the man forced his arms around his son and aparated. Ginny moves her eyesight back on the collapsed stadium. Flames still erode from the wood but there is a difference between when this fire started and the fire right now. One was violent, and now it's peaceful. It's no longer trying to terrorize, but instead to smolder in the ashes. The only light provided that very early morning was these tiny and thin flames.

The screaming seems to fade away. Ginny doesn't pay attention to that anymore. Only the faces of her loved ones and finally her children pop in her mind. Her last thoughts.

Her arms and legs finally lose feeling too and all her pain inside her seems to be going to go away. It's so serene right now for Ginevra Weasley Potter, and gradually, blackness creeps over her eyes. Everything feels so great without any pain. No aging pains. No uncomfortable positions. No nothing. Her lungs exhale one final time as her large pupils die and the reflections of the remaining flames grow more visible to the living that next lay eyes on her.


	3. Chapter 3: When Aurors Break

**Chapter Three: When Aurors Break**

**England- 12:24 a.m.**

**Germany- 1:24 a.m.**

It's a matter of time before the tired eyes of Harry Potter would close. He's been trying so hard to stay up longer but perhaps the comfortable couch he restfully sits on persuades him to do otherwise. Harry sits in the drawing room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place that originally belonged to the Black family. Now, those owners are far gone and it belongs to Harry and Ginny. This would be the main house Harry and his family would live in, for the other one is specifically made during vacations. Although this is the former building the Order of the Phoenix meetings it looks nothing like it did before.

The entire house is finely dusted, clean, and the air is no longer saturated with old and moldy musk. All the rooms have wallpaper that is lighter than the previous ones and they are not peeled off. That modern wallpaper not only looks brand new, but has a more positive attitude with pictures of the happy Potter and Weasley families. Even the stained and worn out carpets are replaced with new and thin maroon carpets.

As for the rest, Ginny and Harry made some new arrangements over the years. The hallway in the ground floor is twice its original width and contains enchanted windows that brought in natural light from outside if it was sunny out. The gas lamps from before didn't satisfy the Potters enough. Additional bedrooms were added for guests, a room for the guests' kids, a separate room whenever Teddy Lupin came over, an extra bathroom, a storage room (which is now filled with what belonged to the Black family), and a living room. A new and improved Fidelius Charm was finally given to the house where only witches and wizards were able to see it. Due to Potter being the head of the Auror office he is constantly targeted from dark witches and wizards. Those who are/were dark or wish to harm Harry and his family cannot see the house until they somehow enter it. As always, muggles cannot see it either.

To top it off, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place is like new, it's kid friendly, better protected, and most importantly; Potter approved.

Just in time. He finally came to conclusion that waiting for his wife to come home would be close to impossible in his tired condition. His kids couldn't make it that far either. Harry drags himself across the room with his little energy. He has just enough of it in him to check on his kids before passing out in his bed.

First stop was his eldest son James whom Harry sees with his blanket away from his torso, his right arm and leg dangling from the edge of his bed, his left arm sleeping above his ruffled brown hair, mouth wide open with his perfectly aligned teeth showing, smooth and flawless skin shining, and soft snores are heard. He looks so peaceful to his father.

Harry can still remember when he was that age; a teenager growing into an adult. James may be getting closer to adulthood but just like three of his uncles, he is far from mature. For now he is still the cunning, brave, athletic, flippant, and attractive chick-magnet. Very expected from young wizards his age.

After passing the bathroom and drawing room, Harry found himself on the second floor with the living room and his only daughter's room; the room of the girly and precious Lily Luna Potter. As Harry peeks in her darkened room he can faintly smile to seeing her curled up in her blankets; grasping it close to her face that it covers her freckles, hair of silky flame knits itself into knots on her pillow, tranquil eyelids blanket over her dreaming eyes, and soft breathing is detected from her small nostrils. Her copper eyebrows sleep soundly with her.

Some days Harry can glance at his daughter and immediately see his own mother. Not only does she resemble her grandmother's beautiful appearance, but she also inherited her kind and loving personality. However if Harry really studied his daughter's face he can also see his wife mixed in there. They are not visible now, but her light brown eyes look just like her other grandmother's. This little girl resembles three most important women in Harry's life (aside from the child herself) and he couldn't be more thankful.

Another staircase and Harry lands on the third floor; the floor that holds his bedroom, Teddy's bedroom, his other son's bedroom and the last steps of stairs across the hall to the top floor. His own bedroom door looked so tempting to open as if it was calling his name. But he had one more bedroom to check; Albus Serverus Potter's room. Finally, a child with a normal sleeping position. Albus's slumbering face was seen clearly; even in the dark. His long brown eyelashes met with his freckled cheeks. There was no way he would make it awake through the game. He sure was tired after leaving.

Finally, it's Harry's turn to sleep. His bedroom is just next-door, and he's not sure he has enough consciousness to change his clothes or brush his teeth. Out his pocket came a special device given to all law enforcers and Aurors by the Minister of Magic. This device the size of Harry's palm was called the Clamorgallus, and it would notify the carrier of a sudden meeting or order. It is under the Protean Charm, so not only would Harry get the call but all the other Aurors and law enforcers would get it.

The Clamorgallus was merely a mirror that filled up with a colored smoke and the color would explain the kind of emergency. If the user saw his or her reflection, then everything is normal. When filled with green smoke, it means to meet in the Auror office. Sometimes Harry would use this to call down other Aurors. Yellow is to meet with the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Blue is to act onto the current target. Aurors and law enforcers would use this as communication orders to surround and ambush on the wanted witch or wizard. Use of dark magic would be detected near this device by showing black smoke. Finally, there is red. Red tells the carrier that there is an urgent meeting with the Minister, and the situation is serious. Right now it was too dark to see in the mirror.

The Clamorgallus was made a couple years ago and so far it has been useful. It's about time Harry can take off his glasses. Hopefully his wife won't stay long at the game. She does get carried away when it comes to...

Vibrating? Not only that, but with a high buzzing noise? It's coming from the end table.

The same end table he put the Clamorgallus on.

But why would it be ringing now at this time of night; well morning? That's weird. Harry never gets calls at a time like this often.

Harry's lips whisper lumos, and he can barely see two inches away from his face. He can forget about that relief of his glasses resting on his nose. But once he saw the color, his eyes widened. "No way," he muttered breathlessly. "Red? So that means..." Harry stood back up from the bed and snatched the Clamorgallus. Every second he stared at the color in disbelief it seemed the device's screams became more and more intense. This is real! Harry is awake enough to see it!

Not another second wasted, Harry apparated to the Minister of Magic's office. Not only did the Clamorgallus notify but it was also used as portkeys to get to the designated area immediately. Harry met eyes with Shacklebolts's anxious ones. What could possibly be the reason of this?

Brown fingers shot up in the air and the Minister himself roared. "As expected! Potter is the first to return my call, no matter what time it is!" He seemed to be complaining more than complimenting. "I bet the others are just starting to get here. There's no time!"

A couple Aurors popped in the room shortly after Harry's arrival. Not one from the other law enforcement departments. One by one only appeared to be Aurors; some waving at Harry and others with dark circles under their eyes. "Where are the others?" said Harry. "Didn't you call for the Patrol too?"

Now twelve Aurors shared the room with the Minister. "Yes, before I called you lot. They are on their way to the uprising."

"Uprising?"

Numerous whispers broke out with the name. "Yes, at the Germany Quidditch stadium! In the past few minutes I have received almost a thousand reports that right after the game ended that the use of dark magic was colossal. At this minute people are still in danger, but most of the uprising cleared up. The Patrol and 'Lady of Law' have been fighting and collecting information at this moment. Since there are serious usage of dark magic, the Patrol needs your help."

More murmuring continued. "Oh, I was just there!" said an Auror wizard. "Good thing I left early with the kids."

"Me too!" said a witch. Harry was deep in thought, so was he and the kids. Everyone except... oh no, Ginny! Harry's heart leapt out of his chest. She has to be okay, she must! Ginny is good with defending herself, so either she is fighting at this moment or she's already safe at home. If only it was easier to stop worrying about her, even if she can fight back. He needs to get there now for the safety of the public, getting involved in this dark magic case, and most importantly his own wife's sake.

Serious Potter has awoken. "Alright, shut it and listen!" All eyes fixed on him and everyone's mouths shut. This was the great perk of being the Head of the Auror office. "We are going to Germany's stadium. When we get there, I expect all of you to capture all and I mean ALL dark wizards and deal with them. That is our job! Once that is done, help the Patrol care for the injured until they find themselves a hospital bed. I'll stay longer to collect any information from investigations and Mrs. Weasley. This will be a long night, but we need to stay focused!"

Harry held out his Clamogullus and everyone else followed; clashing theirs with his. With a flash, the group of Aurors left the Ministry of Magic and landed on the broken land of Germany.

* * *

The wooden stadium being in smolders wasn't the only unpleasant thing here. It smelled like heavy camp fire, the air was saturated by ugliness of the dark magic exhaust, puddles of blood spotted the grass and concrete, and death.

Death was everywhere.

What could have caused this? Who? Why? Whatever it was, it was powerful. Faint screams are still heard, screams of those who cannot be seen due to this dark fog. Aurors except Harry report to the few screaming cries. They can handle it. But to Harry, he had one concerning thought.

_Where in the bloody Hell is Ginny?!_

An itch developed inside him. He was basically walking in a field of slaughtered witches and wizards; already with body bags covering them. Could one of those be her? And to see small body bags makes him sick to his stomach. What type of genocide is this? Why is such a massacre even let to get carried away like this?

He already sees glimpses of dark wizards getting arrested. A good sum didn't know how to walk on their two feet. So, this massacre was alcohol induced. How pathetic. But this? This looks way more than just a gang of drunken wizards fooling around. If only he got more information.

"Oh Ginny, please be okay... Please don't tell me you ended up in one of these body bags. Please tell me you are alive... I have no idea what I would- Hermione!"

The woman crouching over a body didn't care to look up, but he can tell she noticed his presence. He recognized not only her normal fit figure and "Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement" outfit but also her shiny light-brown hair. "H-Hermione? Is that you? I can't see through all this smoke and black fog."

Hermione Weasley slowly stands up and turns to Harry. Her body was as unresponsive as the bodies around her but her face... her face had mixed emotions. Finally Harry can confirm that it is her. "Hey, did you know how all of this happened? Who is the cause of this? I saw some men back there, they didn't look very sober. But not a group like them could've possibly done all of this! Not even a large one! You must know more than me. What do you know so far? Have you seen-"

"Harry..." her voice croaked. He asked her too much in such little time. At that moment he realized that her eyes are pink and puffy, her cheeks are flustered and she keeps sniffing. She was just crying. Hermione, crying? What was going on? Something bad happened, and it's enough to make her cry. Could it be seeing the children deceased? All these people at once? Or did something personal happen?

"Hermione? Were you- w-what happened...?"

Hermione's thick voice answered back as she made another sniff. "H-Harry... I think you should see something. Come with me."

Harry tried his best to avoid the worst case scenario from that. Is it Ron? Is that why she cried? Her children? No... If it was her children she would be in way worse condition than what she is right now. He can't think of anything right now. "Great. On the way there can you please tell me what you know?"

She took a while to reply, as if she was breaking from a daydream. "Well, everything looked the same as when you came here; the intoxicated, the death, the fire, the dark magic, those who claimed that they were under some Imperius Curse-"

"Imperius Curse?"

"Yeah. You know how that goes. Except when I scanned those who claimed it, there were no signs of it on them. They say one person is up to all of this, but when we asked for the name they refused to give it to us. So all we have are some lying drunken berks doing dark magic, Merlin knows why until they are sober, and a lot of dead innocent people... who did not deserve... to die..."

Hermione finished with a pained whisper. What is she about to show him? She obviously knows more by the way she's acting. What else does she know? Being tired, Harry had no patience for suspense. A shout behind them prevented him from saying another word. "A-Auror Potter!"

Hermione and Harry turn to a wizard jogging towards them, wearing an Auror uniform. "Yes Finnian?"

"We finished capturing the dark witches and wizards. Should we interrogate them or help the Healers with the injured?"

"Don't bother with interrogating with them. I'm sure all of them aren't sober. Like I said before, take the injured to the hospital and help the Healers in any way you can! Just make sure the convicts are locked up and monitored first. Oh, and search the entire perimeter twice before saying you found all of them."

"What about the fire?"

An annoyed grunt leaves Harry's throat. "Does it look like a fire anymore? No. It has died down. Our job is to rid dark wizards from public, and that is our only objective now! Now go! The longer you stay here the longer the night is for you."

"Y-Yes sir..." The fidgeting man nods with hesitation before making his way back.

"New Aurors can be such a pain," Harry sighs. "Soon they will learn that they must put the importance of their job before their own emotions. I was never that oblivious to everything when I started." Hermione continues her lead, not saying a word. How long will they walk for, and how long will it take for Hermione to be herself again? "Err... Hermione?"

She gulps. No answer.

"Did Ron go to the game? Is he alright? Does he know-"

"Ron and I didn't go to the game." Her reply seemed short and emotionless. When Harry sees her like this, he knows something isn't right. The feeling of insensibility angers him more, as if he doesn't notice something that is quite obvious.

She talks again. "Did you go to the game?"

"Yeah. Ginny and the kids went too-"

"Oh no, please tell me they are alright!" Hermione's scream was so loud and so sudden, which surprised Harry. She stood with utter tension as her bloodshot eyes dug into Harry's skin. This was the only emotion she seemed to give him so far today. "Well?! Are they?"

"Y-Yeah... We left about an hour before this happened. Hermione, what has gotten into you?"

Her eyes water once they move from him. Shaking her head came next as she slowly persists her walk. She whispers, "You have no idea, do you...?"

Harry didn't dare to say another word. He had no idea what this meant. Something big happened for sure. It can't be _that _bad...

...Could it?

Thinking of the worst case scenarios, he could only think of Ginny. Ginny was the only one he knew he left at the World Cup. To imagine her injured... to imagine her... he can't. No. Just the thought squeezes his throat hard. Something like that wouldn't happen to him again. He was just over reacting. Thank goodness Hermione cut his deep pondering. "We identified almost two-hundred and fifty deceased within the past half hour. Witnesses claim the group who started the fire were indeed intoxicated and upset over a lost gamble. Whatever the gamble was, it must've been so important to cause such a disruption."

"So... all of this over some damn drunken gamble? Was this group filled with former Death Eaters?"

"Again, we don't know everything until someone's mind clears up. Many of these people were tortured, bled to death, killed by the killing curse and even a few showed signs of a great fall from the stadium. It sounds like this was more than just an alcohol-induced fight. This tragedy had a meaning."

Moments go by and Hermione slows down. They must've walked from one side to the other of where the stadium used to be. No one came to attack. Everyone was gone. There was no one around here besides Harry, Hermione, and the dead. "What do you need to show me Hermione?"

Hermione's feet stopped right beside a person covered with a white cloth. Harry looked down and couldn't tell why this one wasn't in a bag. Around the body was a large blood stain around it. "W-We are here... H-Harry..." Hermione's voice shook so badly she refrained from speaking anymore. Her hand covered her mouth as tears formed in her eyes once more. However, he didn't notice her reactions. The arm poking out of the white cloth was not only lifeless but so familiar. He didn't want to look. He knew who this was. There was an internal battle inside him; one side saying 'This isn't her! It can't be!' while the other said 'It is her... That is her hand, the hand you held to countless times.'

There was only one way to know for sure.

Uncovering the sheet was like unwrapping your most favorite thing in the world and seeing it obliterate before your eyes. Harry's worst fears came true; this is Ginny in her worst state. Her dull eyes stare blankly at what used to be the Germany stadium. Ginny's hair was no longer ginger, but splattered with a deep red. From the color of her skin, she passed not even thirty minutes ago. For just a little longer she could've made it. He or Hermione would've saved her.

It was too late. It wasn't Ginny who was late from coming home. It was Harry.

Without any words Harry's knees gave up on him. His eyes wouldn't dare leave his love. These kind of things always happened to him since he was a baby. Not another death was expected from anyone soon and he liked it that way. Ginny was not expected to leave anytime soon, so the thought never crossed his mind until today.

There was something inside his chest that turned upside down; something that ripped, squeezed, sliced... and then set on fire. He will find out who did this to her and he will make sure that person will live miserably like he would. Ginny... how will he tell the kids? Ginny... another person that left him. Seeing her dead did not immensely surprise Harry; for he saw death all his life and he was just so consumed with it. But to lose Ginny was like losing a part of him. It was like Death was playing sick games with him, even twenty years after the war.

Before Harry wrapped his arms around his beloved, he caressed her cold cheeks and studied every detail before he can't anymore. This was his best friend, and she left him.

While his head rested on her chest he could hear Hermione sobbing quietly. What he doesn't hear is that beautiful heartbeat of hers. He whispers softly as his eyes pooled up with tears. "Ginny..."

Why is it the ones Harry loves the most seem to leave him?

* * *

***Sorry for the long wait guys. I have so much hobbies that I have no time for this one! Plus I got easily distracted (such as recently entering the world of manga and anime) (Blue Exorcist and Black Butler is just ****heavenly). Not to mention school now. Review, review, review. Especially with my honors classes. Yay... I'll try to be more recent with these chapters. I know, no Drarry yet but you will see Draco in the next chapter so I beg you, please be patient and watch this story blossom. :D Love you guys!***


	4. Chapter 4: Cavity

**Chapter Four: Cavity**

Past the whistling trees, flavors of cinnamon and leafs in the air, and long grass grabbing onto their ankles is a place with a different dimension. What used to be a place where people expressed their riving emotions in support for their Quidditch team is now an open field with everyone dressed in black. No one is screaming today. No one here is jumping on their seats with high energy. No one is rooting for those they support. Instead everyone is quiet. Everyone drifts to the foldable chairs without a hint of life in their souls. Everyone is crying for those they lost on what was supposed to be a happy and exciting game.

Cold breezes wake their soaked faces. Some who came here today appreciate the sun peeking through the clouds and its warm sunrays; seen easily in the unsaturated sky. Everyone here remembers how it looked seven days ago, how the sky was dark and hard to breathe in. Almost every witch and wizard knows about the "Germany Massacre," as it still fills the pages of the Daily Prophet today. Four-hundred and twenty-three people were found lifeless seven days ago. That doesn't include the bodies that were lost due to the fire.

This big gathering is dedicated to those who died over such a tragedy. This is for the families who suffer because of it. That includes the Potter and Weasley family. Just four days after Ginny's death she received a beautiful funeral in Ottery St. Catchpole. The entire family agreed she should be buried next to her older brother.

Today is the memorial in memory of who lost their lives here, and Harry is taking his kids with him. He has no idea who will be there, since the entire Weasley family seemed to have enough with the funeral due to yet another tragic death. By the looks of it, the memorial will have a permanent spot that the chairs are surrounding. This looks like an end to the Germany stadium on this field.

No one here has a positive feeling. They can't find it in their torn hearts. What is the point in life right now? Well Harry knows only one right now; to help his kids. These kids, not only does he love them so much but they are the last bits of Ginny he has left. He wants what is best for them, so he needs to be supportive without losing it. He never wanted a death like this to be shoved in his kids' lives, but this he couldn't control. Inside it brings Harry down.

_If only I was there._

_If only she survived._

_If only I saved her life in time._

_It's my fault. These kids won't forgive me. I don't blame them. The parents and brothers won't forgive me. I wasn't good enough. I didn't protect their little sister or daughter. I don't blame them if they don't talk to me._

_If only I didn't recommend her Daily Prophet career. She wouldn't have tried it, loved it, and go to every game like this one._

Before Harry and the three kids got close to the people in black, Lily jumps to grab her father's hand. He squeezes the grip tighter. Harry needed this. On his left are James and Albus who said nothing during the walk from the Portkey. When Harry told each of these three; whom stayed locked behind their bedroom doors, that they were going to the memorial, all of them simply nodded. They didn't need to ask why. They didn't want to hear why. The only kid who responded to his announcement at the house was Lily. "Would Mum be there?"

Harry gave her a pained smile. "No. She's resting in the ground next to her brother, your Uncle Fred. Remember?"

Lilly would look down, twiddle her feet and sigh. "Yeah... I just thought she would wake up someday. I know she won't though."

"Then that means you hoped she was there," Harry said as he felt his daughter's hair. "And that's okay. I know how that feels too. And your two brothers. So you aren't alone. It's normal to feel that now."

When the family of four arrived, the possibility of four free seats together was nearly impossible. There had to be more people than those who died here. There were one and sometimes two seats next to each other. There was not one empty row for four. Harry started looking at the very right column of chairs and the largest amount of seats he saw together were three. These seats opened up at the end. That seemed to be his only option now.

Harry filled in the farthest seat. "Lily, here, you can share the seat with me. Or sit on my lap."

Just as the little girl walked closer, a proverbial voice spoke by Harry's right ear and caused Lily to pause her steps. "Oh, that won't be necessary. We have an extra chair on our right. Scorpius, move down one please."

Ah, the voice sounded familiar. And Harry knew exactly who it was. He didn't have to look to know it was Draco Malfoy. Last time he saw Malfoy was earlier in the summer vacation. That, and the occasional glances they received in the Ministry's walkways.

Scorpius, Albus, and Rose became close during their first year. They somehow ended up together when each of them had a different house. Albus Potter was in Gryffindor, Rose Weasley was in Ravenclaw, and Scorpius Malfoy made Slytherin. Since Rose and Albus were cousins it was easier to pair up than Albus and Scorpius. But the boys made it work and every holiday break Albus invited Scorpius over Grimmauld Place. However, every time Draco would drop Scorpius off, he always avoided the time to speak to Harry of Ginny. He always left before they had a chance.

Harry looked over and confirmed his thoughts. Of course it was him. He watches the blonde man move down to reveal an extra seat and then turned his to Harry. "There you g-oh." Draco's mouth didn't show displeasure like his voice did. His eyes showed a different story. "I didn't realize it was you guys."

As Harry slid down a seat closer to Malfoy, he returned his comment with a smile. "It's fine. Thanks for the extra chair."

All six of them looked forward; the memorial had to start soon. The kids on Harry's left didn't care to say a word. What was there to talk about when their minds are occupied enough? Harry's mind was occupied too, but he still looked for other people he might recognize. A majority of these people are speaking in foreign whispers. It's for sure the Weasley family didn't come here, because their family of seven together wouldn't be possible. Not to mention there were not that much redheads around to find them.

"Hey Dad," Harry heard a child's voice on his right. "Can I sit next to Albus?"

Harry's eyes finally meet with Draco's; making Draco jerk his pointed face away. "If it's okay with his father, then yes."

The mini Malfoy crouched forward to meet his bloodshot eyes with Harry's, and all Harry had to do was give Scorpius a nod okay. The row moved down once again and Harry found himself sitting next to Malfoy once again. Honestly, Harry had no hard feelings with Draco. After seeing Draco's situation at the war, he understood why Malfoy acted the way he did. Besides, that was the past and Harry is far past that. Since the day he let his son develop a friendship with Albus, he knew Draco is not like his father Lucius nor did Draco want to be. That made him different than before.

Just to say something to break the ice, Harry started a conversation with Malfoy with a question. "So... What are you doing here?" Draco tilted his face towards Harry but continued to stare forward. "Who do you think is missing?"

Harry felt stupid. Why else would Draco be here? There was no sign of Draco's wife anywhere. This was a bad question. He could've asked anything than this. "Oh, right. I'm sorry."

Gray eyes travel further left, pauses at the three kids without their mother, and goes right back to looking straight. "I'm sorry too."

That made Harry feel uncomfortable to some extent. Hearing "I'm sorry" from Malfoy after growing up with him is extremely rare and odd to hear in his voice. It almost gave shivers down his spine. This was probably the longest conversation they had without any insults or thrashing of words.

Harry wanted to continue.

"Ah, so the stubborn Malfoy finally apologized about something?" Harry came with a smirk.

"Oh shut it, Potter," Draco returned the smile.

Bringing these insults back in a teasing way was something that Harry never liked but seemed to need it at this moment.

Just as Harry opened his mouth, he was interrupted by light fingers tapping his left shoulder. It turned out to be Hermione with a weak smile. She wore a black cocktail dress, a black vail that covers half of her face, and bright crimson lips and heels. He didn't see her before, so she must've squeezed her way in the row behind Harry and his kids. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Are the Weasleys coming?"

"No."

"As expected."

"Ron is here though. We didn't bring the kids. They're spending the day with the grandparents."

Harry's body tilted to face Hermione more. "Where's Ron?"

The weak smile has downgraded to a frown. "Well, it took a lot for him to come here. But we thought you would be there and he wanted to see you. At the moment he is mourning. He hasn't stopped until the day I told him... He will be back from his little break and return here."

"Alright, thanks."

Her head nods gently and before she stands up to walk out the row she rubbed his shoulder in support. It wasn't her time to leave yet. "Hello Mrs. Weasley."

As Hermione leaves the row, she pauses to look at Scorpius. "Afternoon Scorpius. Are you doing alright?"

The blonde boy shrugs and Draco observes from afar. "I'll be okay. How is Rosey?

"She's spending time at her grandmother, probably cooking sweets with her. So my guess is she's doing good." Hermione's lips rise. "I'll tell her you said hello, okay?"

"Okay."

The woman's eyes glimpse at the older Malfoy before making her way back to her original seat. Harry can hear teasing whispers and giggling from his left.

"Rosey... haha."

"S-Shut up. She likes it when I call her that."

Nothing is starting yet, which urges Harry to start a conversation. Why did he want to talk to him so badly? Perhaps it's because he felt Draco wasn't comfortable. Maybe he wanted to make up with Draco, since they are both older and more mature. Whatever the reason was, all Harry knew is that he wanted to talk to the blonde Slytherin, not caring at all about the past.

"So… well… It's been a while since we really talked. Besides today."

Draco's expression never changed. "Indeed."

Is he upset about his wife at this moment? Harry studies Malfoy longer. Maybe right now isn't a good time to talk to him. However, this was the norm he received from Draco for years. Could his lack of communication right now be because of his wife? What else can Harry do? He never was good at cheering people up, and better at making things awkward. Malfoy peeks at the man staring at him and he sighs. "Well, it's going to be another school year for our kids."

Harry's lips finally smile again. "Yeah. But this year will be hard for them."

"Yes it will. Scorpius was very attached to his mother. At least he has friends that will relate to his feelings. I have no idea what he is going through."

"Well, I can always offer you two to come over. That means you-"

"_Harry...?"_

Draco and Harry looks at the ginger with clumped hair, sunken eyes, shining dark circles, shrubby facial hair, and pink eyeliner. This man looks like he hasn't slept well in days and his body has been abused by constant depressed thoughts. All the water from him seemed to be drained. Not only that, but his bones are more visible.

Harry's mouth drops in seconds. _How can Ron be in this position within seven days? _Not even at Ginny's funeral did he look that terrible. Not even Harry looks that beat! "Ron?!" Harry whispers as he jolts out of his seat.

The first thing the two friends did was wrap their arms around each other. Ron would tug on Harry with all the strength he had. Harry didn't mind. Anything that pleases Ron is good enough for him. "Ron, what happened to you? I should've visited with the kids. You look far beyond sick. You could've just owled me."

"T-There was no point." Ron was choking on his own words. He was very quiet too. Harry's kids didn't dare to say anything to Uncle Ron.

"No point?"

"They t-took my sister... My only sister. They took her dear life away. My little sister t-that I watched grow. She's your wife... my sister..."

Harry had the urge to cry with his brother-in-law. But there was the one thing he hated the most. He hates crying in front of people. It was better to be alone if he had to. But not in front of his kids. Harry needs to be strong in front of them so they are strong. If Harry cries here, he would catch so much unwanted attention. Those are the perks of being the chosen one, even if he was only useful years ago.

"H-Her precious life, gone!" sniffled Ron. "A-At her f-funeral," Ron pauses with a gulp of his tears. "I still d-didn't believe it, that s-she was gone. B-But now I realize she is... a-and..."

Harry's best friend, his brother-in-law was horrifically different. It was like he was holding a little kid that happened to be taller than him. From Harry's hands on Ron's back, he felt Ron's heat rise. As Ron blubbers, Harry opens his eyes to his own children. Now everything is clear. His one and only objection for the remainder of his life is to stay alive. He needs to for his kids. His kids need him.

The more Harry fights himself to refrain from crying, the bigger the hole in his heart caused by Ginny becomes. He can't be strong for his friends that way. Harry's green eyes met with Draco's gray ones. Who will fill in the cavity in his heart?

* * *

***Yay Harry and Draco finally talked. :3 My friends find it ironic that I killed Ginny in the second chapter bbbuuut, sorry it had to happen. I kinda liked Ginny (book Ginny) so it's good I killed her. Since this is a Drarry story, I'd rather have her die than be cheated on. I'm sorry I didn't post earlier, I actually had this chapter done for a long time. My problems were bone-breaking review from school, studying for exams, and lack of self confidence in my chapters. I kept going "Ugh this ending sucks" or "I bet I bore the heck out of these people." Sorry guys. Like I said I have a busy summer so I'll be iffy in writing often (since I'm writing two fanfics at the same time) but I'll try my best. I should have another one in mid July. I'm gonna start giving myself goals. FOR YOU GUYS!***


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